thumbsucker.

sometimes I wish more than anything that when overwhelmed I could just rely on my right thumb, nestled snuggly in my mouth....  I could suck away the anxiety... rub my blankie with my left hand, hold it close to my nose, inhale...  that sickly but sweet smell that is mine, and mine only.

unfortunately, doesn't work that way.  more than once or twice....I want to say out of curiousity, but recognize feeling desperate more than anything... I have slipped this thumb between my lips, sucked, hoping for the old soothing sensation to blanket me. 

it doesn't feel the same.  foreign, which used to feel like home.  I shudder, knowing that I let embarrassment rule and self loathing control what used to always be there for me.  my natural coping ability, even if I had to wait to get home, that thumb saved me.

eff adulthood.